


Mysteries

by deedeeinfj



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-09
Updated: 2013-02-09
Packaged: 2017-11-28 17:51:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/677163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deedeeinfj/pseuds/deedeeinfj
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Marauders are assigned essays on the Department of Mysteries</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mysteries

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published on Livejournal, 2003.

"This is stupid."  
  
Remus glanced up from his book and leaned his chin in his hand. "What is?"  
  
"This," said James, motioning impatiently at his own book. "Prophecies. They're stupid."  
  
Beside James, in a tilted chair that would make Madam Pince flay them alive if they were in the library, was Sirius, charming several crumpled pieces of parchment to arrange and fold themselves into things that could only be called lewd. They could do whatever they wanted in the Room of Requirement; it had been a great day when James found it. Sirius' book lay open on the table, entirely disregarded. "Why?" he asked.  
  
"Because they imply that people have to do certain things, and that isn't true."  
  
"Hmmm." Sirius looked across the table and grinned at Remus, then casually tossed one of the parchment balls to James, who caught it absently and set it on the table. "There," said Sirius, leaning forward so that his chair rested on the ground again. "That's why prophecies aren't stupid."  
  
Remus smiled slightly and looked down at his book again, though he wasn't reading anymore.  
  
"What are you talking about?" James asked.  
  
"You didn't  _have_  to catch what I threw at you," said Sirius, in the triumphant voice that Remus knew only too well. "But I  _knew_  you would."  
  
"That doesn't make sense," protested Peter from beside Remus.  
  
"It does," said Remus without looking up.   
  
They were working on an assignment for Professor Binns - three rolls of parchment on one room in the Department of Mysteries, a place at the Ministry of Magic where trained wizards studied the most complex and puzzling things about the world. Death, Love, Time, Fate and Free Will, Thought... Muggles would call them "philosophers," a word Remus had always liked. Lovers of wisdom.   
  
He heard the book across from him slam, then James' generous yawn. "I'm done for the night."  
  
"Me too," said Peter. "Time goes by even slower when you have to study it."  
  
"Deep thought there, Wormtail," laughed Sirius. "I'd say I'm done too, but I never started."  
  
Remus lifted his head to give a disapproving look, but was stopped halfway when he felt a foot suddenly press against his. Instead he met Sirius' gaze, saw the wink, and turned away again.   
  
"Don't you want to learn more about love?" asked James in a simpering voice, drawing out the vowel.   
  
"It's locked up. What is there to study? Moony got the only good room. A theater. Death on stage, curtain and everything. And what do I get? A locked door."  
  
"Time's really interesting too," Peter said. "They have these things that are born and then die, over and over and over."  
  
James laughed. "Sounds like Snivelly's head lice."  
  
"In hair that greasy?" Sirius protested. "If there's one thing he's got going for him, it's that lice won't go near him."  
  
"I'm serious, though," said Peter earnestly, hurrying on quickly when Sirius opened his mouth to make the old, old joke. "They're trying to learn if time by itself can change things, or if time does nothing."  
  
"They should study Binns," quipped Sirius.   
  
Staring at a group of words on the page until they began to blur together, Remus said nothing while the other three laughed. He was tired as well, and the famous archway made little sense to him as it was. Sirius may know about it without even glancing at a book, just as tomorrow night when they wrote their essays, Sirius would write eloquently and knowledgeably on a subject he hadn't researched. At least, Remus thought with a small smile, not in a book. As for James, the only reason he was making any effort at research was because he and Lily had a rather bloodthirsty competition on for marks. But unlike James and Sirius, Remus knew he had to study, and he tried to force himself to concentrate.   
  
"Come on, Moony," said James, standing and stretching. "Enough boredom for one night."  
  
Remus finally looked up from the book and saw Sirius leaning on the table, arms folded over his book and the crumpled pieces of parchment, grin as always in place, staring at him from under a careless fringe of dark hair. It never failed to make his heart quicken when he noticed Sirius doing that, even after a few months of getting used to it. He'd never get used to it. "I need to understand this first," he replied. "Go on, I'll be up soon."  
  
"What's not to understand?" James asked. He scooped his books under one arm and used his free hand to push Remus lightly in the shoulder. "You fall through a curtain and you die."  
  
"But I don't understand  _why_. I don't believe the curtain could kill anyone. I don't understand why they made it if no one can go through it to study it." He raked a frustrated hand through his hair. "It just doesn't make  _sense_."  
  
"No one understands it," said Peter. "That's why they've been studying it for so long."  
  
Sirius sat up and tilted his chair back again. "You two go to bed, and I'll stay with Moony and try to figure this out. He won't give up until he does, anyway."  
  
James and Peter walked off grudgingly, leaving Remus and Sirius alone. Remus returned determinedly to his book. If he looked at Sirius now, there would be no more studying tonight. And he had to learn this. And he had to... quite determinedly... ignore the soft thud of two chair legs hitting the floor, ignore the hand that had slipped across the table to cover one of his, ignore the thumb sliding over his, ignore Sirius saying, "Remus" very quietly.  
  
"Sirius, I'm really trying to study," he said, though he did not move his hand.  
  
"So am I. Remember what room I have?"  
  
"Then study it."  
  
"I don't have to." Patient fingers slid over his wrist and partway up his arm, then brushed down again, back over his hand. "I could tell them everything they need to know."  
  
 _Focus_ , Remus thought. Book. Page. Paragraph. Sentence. Word. Archway. Death. Death. Dea-- damn it, he'd read that. He drew in a shaky breath. "If you know..." Breathe again, good. "If you know so much about love, why don't you help me with death?"  
  
Sirius lifted his hand, and Remus heard the creak as the chair tilted back again. "It makes sense to me," said Sirius.  
  
"Do you think it kills people - the archway, I mean?" Remus glanced up cautiously and decided that it was safe. Sirius had folded his arms across his chest and was looking uncharacteristically thoughtful.  
  
"Of course it does. It's really like a stage, Remus, don't you see it? I can see that diagram of the room in front of you, surely you see it. You're on stage, that's life, I guess. You take your bow, and you pass through the curtain. And there's another side. Another place you go, only no one on the outside can see."  
  
"That's great," said Remus, "but how do they study death if they can't go in?"  
  
The chair touched ground again, and Sirius leaned forward. "They  _can't_. That's the point."  
  
Remus gave a short laugh. "So what should I write in my essay? 'The archway serves no purpose because no one studies it'?"  
  
"I didn't say no one studies it from the outside. They can know what the arch is made of, the physical aspects of someone falling through it, the material used in the curtain. But that's all they can know. What's inside the arch, they can't study. Because that's final, and you can't come back from it, and that's the point. Once you go through, you're gone." Remus looked up and met the blue eyes, surprised at how... well, serious... they were. "You're gone forever, dead."  
  
After a moment's pause, Remus leaned forward and kissed Sirius, unable to repress the soft moan that rose up in his throat, and not at all sorry that he was bending the pages of his book. "What about love?" he mumbled, reaching out to rest his fingers on the nape of Sirius' neck. "Why keep it locked?"  
  
Sirius was quiet for a few seconds, his short breaths warm on Remus' lips. "Because everyone would want to go in. Not like death, where they have a theater built for no audience. Not like time, where you just stand there and watch the display. Love is what everyone wants, and they're not content to watch. They want to have it." With one hand, he reached over and pushed the table away from between them, and they both slid off their chairs onto the floor, fingers grasping and pushing away whatever fabric stood between them and skin. "Everyone..." he breathed, "would want to go in... to take it."  
  
Lying down and pulling Sirius over him, Remus smiled up at the intent face. However apathetic he was towards homework and maturity in general, Sirius could have the focus of a seeker when he really wanted to catch a snitch. Remus would never forget the heady feeling, rediscovered every time Sirius hovered over him this way, when he realized that Sirius loved pouring that focus into him. "Since when are you a philosopher?"  
  
"I'm not," murmured Sirius, trailing kisses down Remus' throat. Remus tilted his head back, offering more skin, demanding that the questing mouth explore further. "I only study things that interest me." Sirius scraped an earlobe with his teeth, and Remus pulled him closer still. "Like you, for example."  
  
"Mm," said Remus. That seemed an appropriate response. It was the only one he was capable of making, anyway.  
  
"They should have a Remus room," he said, kissing his way across Remus' collarbone. "I'd study all the time..." Remus arched himself to Sirius, hardly even aware anymore of what Sirius was whispering against his skin, though he could hear every word. "I'd sleep there, eat there..." This he demonstrated with tongue and teeth, and Remus could only think how much he would pay to be a room where Sirius was always inside him, always... "I'd live there," Sirius said, moving down further, and then Remus was inside  _him_ , he in Sirius' mouth, and Sirius in every part of Remus, living there, and there was no room for thought, no room even for his voice, so he let it escape in moans and words that probably made no sense.  
  
He didn't care about archways and locked doors, death or time or fate. There was only Sirius, and what they felt, what he felt, was no mystery.


End file.
